


say that you will love me

by hundredblossoms



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Might be OOC, extremely unprofessional and self indulgent, first i want to say that i have never stepped my foot in both of those places, i love zikun, i'm still trying to get a better hold on them, uselessly dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hundredblossoms/pseuds/hundredblossoms
Summary: xikan: cai xukun, gay and pining? more likely than you think





	say that you will love me

Cai Xukun puts down his pen with a heavy sigh.

This is it. The Day, dreaded by all artists, has finally come -- the day he loses all his inspiration forever and is reduced to a basic mess that is incapable of drawing anything decent. The day he finally starts his descent into the pit of mediocrity and slowly but surely fade into nonexistence –

He scrunches up his latest botched up attempt and hurls it towards the bin, the balled up sheet of paper joining his brethren scattered on the floor when his throw narrowly misses the edge of the goal.

It’s four thirty in the afternoon, and he has no clients scheduled for later, so he decides to leave early -- at least he can wallow in his misery in the comfort of his own home.

He picks up his sketchbook and walks out to the main room, which is the place they meet their clients for the first time. Some of their best work is framed and hung on the wall, including two sketches he did last year that he’s still proud of. The parlor, normally bursting with loud conversation and trashy American hip-hop music at this time of day, is surprisingly quiet. It makes sense when he remembers that 2/3 of the main contributors to the din, Bu Fan and Xu Shengen, are out for a convention held in the next state and won’t be back for the next three days.

What he doesn’t expect is that his boss, as straight laced and diligent as the best of them, is absent too. He waves at Xikan, who’s discussing options with a young woman (as it _always_ is with Xikan), and goes to look for Linkai.

The only one-third of the noise squad left is in the middle of piercing a ring through a client’s septum when Xukun peeks in his room.

“Yo, Linkai. Where’s boss?”

The diminutive piercer looks up from where he’s operating with a huge grin. “Went out with his boyfriend, I think. He’s so fucking whipped it’s hilarious.”

Xukun laughs. “I’m so going to tell him you said that.”

“Fuck no, man, I don’t need him to deduct my salary _again_.” Linkai shudders at the memory. “I’m fucking broke.”

“No one’s but your own fault, _xiao-didi_.” Xukun teases him, seizing the chance when there’s a door and a good distance between them. “Ruibin only did that because you and Bu Fan couldn’t stop making out in public.”

The client, who’s already a regular here, snorts loudly at Xukun’s words.

Linkai shoos Xukun out, ears red with embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, fuck off, I have a client to tend to.”

* * *

 

The florist’s is as how he remembers it. Plants of various sizes and colors are arranged meticulously outside the shop, in front of the window. The interior décor is in shades of pastel and white, so obnoxiously bright that it makes his eyes hurt.

Zhangjing almost never leaves the shop, so he kind of expects the florist to be present when he pushes the door open and hollers. “Oi, You Zhangpang, you here?”

“Zhangjing isn’t here. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Xukun turns his head around, and feels his heart skip a few beats. The man who just spoke is extremely handsome, with angular features and a jawline so sharp it could probably slit his throat in half. What attracts Xukun the most, though, are his eyes. They are crinkled up into little half moons when he smiles at him, and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.

“Hello? Are you okay?” A hand flits before his eyes.

Xukun starts a little at the question, and promptly feels his face heat up. “Yeah, I’m. Perfectly nice and well. Thanks for asking, uh.”

The man’s still smiling. “Wang Ziyi.”

“Cai Xukun.” He decides that man buns are suddenly the most fashionable thing in the planet, conveniently forgetting his proclamation against it only a day ago (to be fair manbuns do not suit Linkai at all), because Wang Ziyi totally rocked it. The lightning bolt shaved on the sides of his head add an edge to the look, making him look so much more _dangerous_. Which is something Xukun appreciates. Very much.

“Ah, well. I’m a friend of Zhangjing’s. And he said that I can come here and, um, sketch and stuff.” Xukun hates that he has apparently forgotten how to English. He blames the weather. “So I’d better, uh, get to it, if that’s okay with you?”

The florist only nods at him after a second, apparently distracted.

“Cool, thanks.”

Only when Wang Ziyi leaves, ostensibly to tend to the flowers or something, that Xukun remembers to be self-conscious. He’s only wearing a white tank and his favorite pair of sweatpants, having discarded fashion in favor of comfort, thinking that if he had to suffer at work he might as well do it in his own terms. He also didn’t bother to comb his hair up, opting to let the strands fall freely over his forehead, covering his eyes.

Now he kind of regrets it. He must have looked like a potato to the other man. Damn it.

Cursing inwardly, he parks himself on a stool facing a wall of flowers, and gets to work. If he catches his gaze wandering a few times, it’s not really his fault, is it?

* * *

 

**xukun**

oi, you zhangpang!!!!  
coME OUT THIS INSTANT

**zhangjing**

yes hello  
you’re impolite what happened

**xukun**

whY didn’t u tell me u werent in

**zhangjing**

i had to go out for an emergency order  
sorry :(

**xukun**

don’t do the sad face you know i cant resist it  
who’s the new guy in your shop

**zhangjing**

new guy?  
oh you mean ziyi  
he’s here for ages lol  
it’s just that you never visit

  
**xukun**

i’ll make it up to u tmr

**zhangjing**

you’re only coming again for ziyi aren’t you

**xukun**

NO.

**zhangjing**

hmm now that i think abt it he’s totally your type…

**xukun**

NO.

* * *

 

When he goes in the shop the day after, Zhangjing is there to welcome him with a warm hug and homemade chocolate chip cookies.

“Aww, it’s so great to see you again!” Zhangjing says to him when he finally lets go of him, and continues with a conspirational grin. “But I know that you aren’t here just for me.”

“Shut up!” Alarmed, he looks around frantically for the other man, and punches Zhangjing soundly in the arm with relief when he doesn’t see any sign of him. “He might hear!”

“No he won’t, he’s outside – oh, hey, Ziyi,” Zhangjing spots Ziyi coming in from the back, lifting a pot of flowers with one hand, and waves him over. “Have you met Xukun?”

“Yeah, he came in yesterday when you were out.” Ziyi waves at Xukun with his free hand. “Hi.”

The muscles on his other arm look ever more defined from all the lifting, and Xukun feels like he’s about to combust on the spot. Luckily, Zhangjing helps him out before he totally embarrasses himself. “This loser says hi to you too, Ziyi.”

Ziyi nods at him, eyes filled with bemusement, and says, “I would shake your hand, but I have to lug this out front.”

Xukun feels a bit regretful, because damn his hands are beautiful, even when they’re caked with soil and who knows what. He wonders how they’ll look when clean and pulling on his hair.

He must have spaced out, because when he finally musters up a reply, Ziyi’s not there and Zhangjing is grinning at him like he’s a plate of nasi lemak with extra chicken rendang.

Xukun opens his mouth, relieved to find that his voice has come back. “I hate you, you’re the worst friend ever.”

“No, you don’t.” Zhangjing says, and proffers the plate to him. “Have a cookie?”

He decides that he’s going to punch the shit-eating grin off Zhangjing’s face one day, but now he only takes a cookie and munches on it with all his might.

* * *

 

 **listen to what i say**  
ruibin, linkai, xukun and 4 other members

**qin fen**

y’all you know what i heard

**shengen**

not interested

**qin fen**

still gonna tell  
ickle cai xukun is crushing hard on someone awwww

**linkai**

wow congrats who’s the unlucky victim

**ruibin**

+1

**xukun**

fuck u tiny gremlin  
and no i don’t have a crush  
he’s just unfairly hot

**xikan**

cai xukun, gay and pining?  
more likely than you think

**xukun**

shut up you fox

**xikan**

that a weak ass retort and u know it

**qin fen**

ooh please continue i love catfights

**shengen**

so does this mean that i’m the only straight here  
i cannot do this anymore  
can i resign

**ruibin**

go on i won’t stop you

**shengen**

NO SORRY BOSS I DON’T MEAN IT  
but seriously  
yesterday bu fan facetimed linkai for three hours  
in the middle of the fucking night

**xikan**

hahahah rip

**xukun**

rip

**shengen**

like i don’t mind you being all rainbows and shit but at least let me sleep in peace  
@bu fan @linkai

**bu fan**

so many complaints everyday  
five five six six seven seven eight eight

**linkai**

lol bu fanfan get a cooler catchphrase

**qin fen**

linkai is so gonna get it tmr i'm calling it

**linkai**

i sure hope so i missed his dick a lot

**xikan**

ew tmi

**ruibin**

linkai.

**linkai**

shit.

* * *

 

The next time he visits Remembrance, he’s armed with his favorite black tee, his best jeans and a whole lot of murderous intent, specifically directed towards one You Zhangjing. He’s a believer of the power of the color black; every time he’s donned in it he feels ready to beat someone up into a pulp, which, in this case, is his so-called friend.

There are a few teenage girls in the shop, talking and laughing as they pick out ready-made bouquets, but they fall into silence when Xukun marches in.

He doesn’t care that he’s a terrifying sight right now, what with his all-black ensemble and entire inked sleeve and all – he’s a man with a mission, and hell if he doesn’t succeed.

He doesn’t find Zhangjing, but there’s Ziyi at the back of the counter, weaving flower crowns. His fingers deftly twist the stems of a yellow rose, and thread in another type of flower next.

As Xukun watches, he feels his anger gradually subside. The man is the definition of calm, an attribute that Xukun discovers to be strangely befitting his tough appearance.

Like the calm before a storm.

He waits till Ziyi has finished one crown before clearing his throat. “Hello?”

The florist, who’s completely focused on the task before him, looks up, startled by the sudden interruption.

Adorable.

Xukun doesn’t realize that he spoke out loud, so he’s slightly taken aback when the florist asks him, “What’s adorable?”

“The… the crown you’re making, of course,” Xukun hastily starts to explain himself. “What are they for?”

“A client ordered them for her grandma’s eightieth birthday. They’re holding a themed party for her, she loves flowers.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah.” At this, Ziyi gazes down lovingly towards the flower crown he’s holding. “I’m lucky to encounter someone who loves the things I love as much as I love them.” Xukun must have gone soft, because he really wants to smother him with a hug at that moment.

Ziyi observes him for a second, and asks him, “Do you want a flower crown?”

That, is definitely not what Xukun expects. “What?”

“Do you want a flower crown?” The florist repeats, voice gentle. “You look like you need one.”

He does not know what made him think he needs flowers in his life, but he has no heart to refuse when Ziyi turns that pair of warm eyes at him. “Sure.”

“Here.” After some deliberation, Ziyi ends up choosing the one highest on the pile, the one Xukun saw him weave with yellow roses. He puts it gently on Xukun’s hair. “It suits you.”

“Uh, thanks.” He seriously doubts that it does, because the clique of girls lining up behind him all start to point and giggle at him, but it’s a souvenir of the first time Ziyi and him had actual interaction, so he makes a decision. “How much do I have to pay?”

Ziyi shakes his head good-naturedly, and laughs. “It’s on the house.”

* * *

 

His sketches of flowers and plants somehow always manage to morph into caricatures of the man currently in front of him arranging flowers on the racks. His shirt always rides up when he reaches up to the highest shelf, revealing a sliver of skin on his hip. He should be working, but his eyes can’t help being glued to the very attractive sight in front of him.

So he doesn’t notice Zhangjing sidling up next to him and managing to get a glance on his sketchbook before he hastily closes it, alarmed. He hopes his friend only saw the flowers, but he knows he’s out of luck when Zhangjing leers at him.

“You’re so pathetically gay, wow,” Zhangjing says, his voice reducing into a whisper when Xukun elbows him in the gut.

“I haven’t even gotten back to you for snitching on me,” Xukun whispers back. “Remember to sleep with one eye open tonight, you bastard, for I’m definitely coming to get you.”

Zhangjing palms his stomach. It’s going to bruise for sure; Xukun got him good. “Honestly, you’re still hung up on that?” he sighs exasperatedly.

“Why wouldn’t I be,” Xukun raises his voice in an accusation. “I’ve been the laughing stock of the idiots at work since then because all of them have love lives and I’m the only one crushing on someone who doesn’t even like me back!”

Zhangjing rolls his eyes and pulls him into the breakroom, so that Xukun can “yell all you want and not scare my customers away”.

By then Xukun has already finished yelling, so he resorts to glaring at the cheery shop owner, who’s busy pawing for food in the pantry.

Unperturbed, Zhangjing asks him, “Why do you think he doesn’t like you back?”

“It’s pretty much set in stone, Zhangjing.” Xukun sighs. “He’s so straight it hurts, have you ever seen him?”

“Of course I have, he works for me, duh.” Zhangjing echoes his sigh. “The desperate pining really isn’t any good for your brain.”

“Shut up,” He pushes his friend weakly. “He gave me yellow roses, Zhangjing. Yellow roses.”

“When the person you wanna bang gives you flowers that mean ‘friendship’, it’s hard to get your hopes up.”

“You sure about that?” Zhangjing gives him an enigmatic look, and prompts. “If I were you I would go ask him why, you’ll be surprised.”

* * *

 

He’s really coming in to work this time, he tries to convince himself. It’s mostly true; one of his new clients has asked for a design that incorporated hydrangeas, and Xukun has no idea what the fuck those are.

So he’s here.

He’s come here enough times that half of the florist’s regulars know him. An old woman, who looks like she’s well in her eighties, smiles knowingly at him and winks when he pushes the door open. And yet Ziyi stays unaware of his very obvious crush – the man’s so dense he could be a slab of steel, or whatever is the densest in the world – and has grown to call him his bro. The last thing he wants is to be Ziyi’s bro, but he’ll take it over embarrassing the fuck out of himself when he tries to confesses and evidently fails.

He’s trying to design around his recent sketch when Ziyi soundlessly materializes behind him. Startled, he turns his head back only to see that handsome face only inches apart from his, so it’s natural that he somehow stumbles on thin air.

“Careful.” Ziyi steadies him with both hands.

Xukun’s heart is beating so loudly he wonders if the other man could hear. He takes a deep breath, calm down, calm down –

He smiles gratefully at him. “Thanks, you really saved my life there.” “You’re welcome, bro.” Ziyi’s ears are red. It’s cute; Xukun laments that he failed to notice it before.

They don’t move for a long time, both of them lost in their own worlds, until a customer pokes him on the shoulder. “Sorry, could you please excuse me?”

They jolt apart, and Xukun mumbles a hasty apology to the woman, who waves her hand in acknowledgement. Just then, another customer comes in the shop and makes a beeline for Ziyi, and Xukun takes it as his cue to leave.

* * *

 

He’s ten minutes away from the florist’s when he comes to the realization that he left his sketchbook on the floor.

The many possibilities flit through his mind in lightning speed as he dashes back to the shop. What if Ziyi opened the book? Would he still see him as a friend? Or as someone despicable?

He soon discovers that everything is futile when he elbows the door open, panting from the fast run, and sees his book on the table, flipped open. He sees one particularly detailed sketch of the other man’s back muscles right in the middle of the page, and he wants to die.

Ziyi’s staring at him, the way how a tourist would look at the Great Wall of China or something, like he’s seeing him for the first time.

 _Shit_ , he thinks, _I fucked up_.

The awkward silence is stifling. In an attempt to break it, Xukun blurts out, “Why did you give me yellow roses?”

“They’re my favorite flowers. And they, uh, look good on you.” Ziyi’s looking down at the counter, face as red as the roses blooming beautifully behind him. Xukun kind of wants to kiss him.

“Can I –”

“Can I –”

The awkwardness that permeates the air kind of goes away when their eyes meet, and they laugh together.

Xukun grins. “You go first.”

“Um. Can I kiss you?”

Xukun doesn’t bother to reply. Instead, he lunges over the counter to yank on the collar of his shirt, and kisses him soundly on the lips.

* * *

**caixukun**  
[ _image: xukun is wearing a crown of yellow roses on his head and smiling at the camera. he’s holding ziyi’s hand_. ]

302 likes

 **dirtyimp** : yuck  
                **caixukun** : @bufanzi come and take ur annoying brat away

 **zruibin_** : so that’s where you went when you were supposed to be on sick leave  
                **caixukun** : SHIT BRB DELETING

 **azorachin** : cute!  
                **caixukun** : ;)

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me at [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/cxkunism)


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